


Nightshade

by shyfoxes



Series: Chasing Moonlight [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Bad Flirting, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Delivery boy lance, Fluff, Full Moon Cravings, Full Moon Cravings Keith, Getting Together, Happy Halloween!, Howl-o-ween, Hunk & Keith minor friendship, Lance's family - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Shiro - Freeform, Werewolf Biology, Werewolf Keith, Werewolf Keith (Voltron), Werewolves, hunk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-23 19:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12514260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyfoxes/pseuds/shyfoxes
Summary: “Finally ready to let me into your heart, Babe?” Lance cooed. He started, “I knew you couldn't resist -”Keith placed his hand over Lance’s. Lance looked quickly at the other man’s hand then back at Keith, words lost. Keith leaned in close enough that under the crappy fluorescents, Lance could determine that Keith’s eyes were a smouldering steel blue. If he hadn't blinked it might have even seemed to glow. Lance’s mouth felt dry, unable to form legible sentences as proper responses mashed and jumbled on his tongue. Keith had never actually flirted back; Lance didn't actually have a backup plan for if he ever did.“You've got me there,” Keith replied. His smile became toothy, sharp. “I really couldn’t resist.”or, Delivery Boy Lance unknowingly falls for a werewolf who gets Full Moon Cravings





	Nightshade

**Author's Note:**

> this took FOREVER to write because I kept losing steam and hitting the all mightiest writing blocks. It was a lot of fun to write either way, so I hope it's fun to read too :D I made it in time for Halloween! Happy Howl-o-ween!

Lance was kind of biased in what he believed in. Vampires and Bigfoot? Not real. Mermaids? Ghosts? Witches even? Definitely maybe.  
   
Lance had driven up and down streets and neighborhoods at god-knows what hour dozens of times and he had yet to see any spooky happenings. If it was happening, it wasn't happening near him.  
   
But as his Granny always told him, “Don’t go looking for trouble”.  
  
Like hell Lance wasn’t going to listen to his Granny when she said something like that in that ominous old lady way of hers. She’d lived through curses and hardships, seen the rolling ghosts of the past. Lance didn’t put a lot of stock in what he couldn’t see, but he knew that he could trust in Granny’s intuition.

Granny had been through it all. If she said there were mermaids in a bay, then there were mermaids in a bay, no questions asked.  
   
(Though a hint of doubt that _maybe_ she just wanted to make sure troublesome kids didn't wade out too far if they thought they'd be nabbed by a wayward mermaid).  
   
She and Lance’s grandfather had set up a restaurant when they’d moved to America. It had been hard for them, three kids and in a new country, having started off with next to nothing. They’d scrounged and worked hard until they weren’t merely working out of someone else’s shop, doing odds and ends to make ends meet. They had owned their own shop, food made with heart and affection with the bright letters of their surname across the sign board. Lance took a lot of pride in seeing MCCLAIN every time he entered the shop. They still lived right above the shops, too.  
   
Lance’s father had long since moved out, but it was no secret that the best place to be was in his grandparents’ shops. Lance’s eldest brother, Isaiah had even been born in that little apartment, one year when a hurricane had blown through and made it impossible for them to leave to the hospital.  
  
Lance had grown up half on the beach, wading through water liked he’d been born amongst the waves, chasing tales of mermaids. The other half was grown up between his own happily crowded family home and his grandparents’ shop, bare-foot and excited, and jammed into booths between his own siblings and cousins eating their granny’s pastries as she chilled them with tales of ghosts on the hills of her hometown.  
  
Lance’s own older brothers had run deliveries, and now Lance had taken on the tradition.  
  
It was Saturday as usual when Lance’s little cousin Vicky had popped his head over at the bakery and told Lance that they had a delivery for him to run. Lance had looked at the clock, nearly a half hour till 10, shrugging all the same. He had recently gotten his license and the okay from his Mama about driving out at night without his Abuelito sitting shotgun. Then again, any bit of time spent alone with the radio and no kids to pull at his hair or his clothes - even if he did love them to bits - was a welcome break.  
  
Lance followed out after Vicky, teasing the younger boy that at the rate he was going he would never catch up to Lance in the height department. Vicky elbowed him, then handed him the delivery package with address written on the receipt.  
  
Lance climbed into Isaiah’s old rust-bucket MG, waited for it to putter twice before humming alive. He strapped in the delivery package in the passenger seat, then himself, and pulled out from the curb, down the street.  
  
It wasn’t until he hit a stoplight - a long one that always seemed to give a hazy flicker like moth’s wings when Lance was just about to blink - that Lance realized he hadn’t even looked at the address of where he was going. He squinted in the low street-lighting, trying to make out the details.  
  
Lance read the name given - _Keith_ \- and the address given. It was only 20 minutes away, at best.  
  
Why Keith felt the need to order what looked likely mostly meat, minus the usual container of rice, Lance didn’t know. All in large quantities by the looks of it, too. Lance could only figure that Keith was just not a vegetable guy, like his youngest cousin Angelika.  
  
The light flashed green before Lance could think any more of it. Lance drove off.

  
  
-

  
The apartment complex Lance had pulled up to was ordinary enough. It looked in need of painting, but wasn’t particularly run-down, nor was it new like the ones that were popping up around it seemed to be. The gravel path leading up to the entrance where Keith had said his place laid was cracked. Weeds were growing threw the pavement. A thick root from a nearby tree had thoroughly run through one part all together. Lance took mild amusement in hopping over it on his way in.  
  
Looking at Granny’s messing writing, Lance noted that Keith lived on the third floor. Lance glanced at the elevator, watching the flashing up button and it’s slightly parted doors before deciding that taking the stairs two by two would be a much better alternative.  
  
Lance put the food package into the crook of his arm, still pretty hot from when he had left, and put his long legs to work. Lance looked around at the apartment doors, barely a hum of life coming from anyway.  
  
Grinning to himself, Lance opened his mouth and began to sing, already reaching the second floor and heading towards the third  
  
“My baby is a ten, we dressing through the nine -”  
  
Lance’s voice hushed as he looked between the doors on the third floor. He shook his shoulders regardless, not missing a beat as he finally stopped before apartment 322.  
  
“He still the one,” Lance jokingly finished.  
  
After double checking the number on the receipt, Lance raised his fist and knocked on the door.  
  
The sound of something toppling over and cursing greeted Lance from the other side of the door. Lance could even hear the faint sound of growling. He guessed Keith had a grumpy dog, or something.  
  
When the guy - Keith, Lance assumed -  did finally open the door, it was with the door chain straining and his dark eyes glaring at Lance through the crack in the door.  
  
“Can I help you?” Maybe-Keith asked.  
  
Lance held up the food up near the door, raising a brow. “Uhh, you’re - you’re Keith, right?”  
  
“Who wants to know?” Most-Likely-Keith said (demanded).  
  
Keith had some pretty sharp looking teeth if Lance was seeing correctly. He kind of hoped he wasn’t.  
  
“You called for delivery?” Lance tried again, exasperated. “Beef, pork, chicken ringing any bells?”  
  
Keith looked at Lance again, eyes still narrowed before he was wrestling the door chain off. Lance had to blink a couple times now that he was taking Keith’s appearance in.  
  
He was barely an inch shorter than Lance. He was compact for his size where Lance was wide-shouldered. Keith had muscle barely hiding under his tight black shirt. The fingerless gloves were also surprisingly intimidating. Lance forced his eyes back up. The ends of his dark hair were also curling just at the base of his neck, topped off by unruly (unbrushed) bangs and a surly expression. Keith was by no means unattractive, and Lance was having trouble using both his brain and mouth at once just looking at him.  
  
Keith reached out a fist with what looked like a twenty and a five in his hand, enough to cover the bill and give tip. Lance was just handing the package to him when Lance’s mouth got the better of him.  
  
“Dude, do you have a mullet?” Lance blurted.  
  
Keith touched his hair, blinking. “Wait - what?”  
  
Lance accidentally held the food back against his chest, leaving Keith’s hand floating mid-air between them.  
  
“You know a, uh, mullet. 80s thing,” Lance tried.  
  
“I know what a mullet is,” Keith huffed. “I just don’t get why you think I have one.”  
  
“I mean, dude, it’s right there. Do you cut it yourself? Because that hairstyle screams mullet,” Lance babbled.  
  
“It just grows like this!” Keith growled.  
  
Lance was surprised to realize that it sounded an awful lot like -  
  
Keith shoved the money into Lance’s chest, taking his delivery package away from Lance. He pried open the bag, took a whiff. A weird look Lance couldn’t place flashed across his face before he was fixing Lance with another look. It reminded Lance a lot of the nature shows, of the pensive stare of a predator having spotted a camera and debating its next course of action.  
  
“Thanks,” Keith finally said awkwardly. “Uh, drive safe.”  
  
Then Keith shut the door in Lance’s face. Lance could hear the sounds of the chain and what sounded like an additional two locks being used.  When Lance was at the ground floor and back in his car, he took a deep breath and groaned into the steering wheel. Lance raked his hands down his face, rocking from side to side as he cursed himself.  
  
“Idioooot,” Lance groaned. “Why did you insult his hair! You should have gone for a pick-up line!”  
  
Lance flopped back against the driver’s seat. Lance looked up through the window. Half-moon that night, he noticed. After finally gathering his wits, Lance headed back home.

  
  
-

  
  
It was a few weeks later that Lance found himself back at Keith’s door again.  
  
After that first delivery, no more orders from Keith had come into the shop. Lance had fretted that maybe his off-handed comments had scared the other boy off. As the days turned into weeks, Lance had started to lose hope that he and Keith would ever cross paths again. He didn’t even get to figure out if Keith even liked boys or not.  
  
Then, one slow Thursday night, almost around the same time as the last delivery, Vicky was knocking at the back door to the house telling Lance he had another delivery to make. Lance had psyched himself out the 2 minutes it took him to go next door. There was no way it was Keith, it could be anybody. Tons of people ordered food at strange hours of the night. Lance was one of them. There was no way it was Keith. Lance looked at the receipt on the brown paper bag and draw Vicky into a hug as he twirled on his heels. It was Keith.  
  
“Why does he always order this so late,” Lance muttered, getting out of the car. “Why is this the exact same thing he ordered last time?”  
  
Lance hurried up the stairs, feet taking him to Keith’s door by memory. He had imagined tons of scenarios where he would wind up back at Keith’s door, hopefully with a more suave approach. Standing here now, though, Lance could feel himself swiftly forgetting all his pick-up lines.  
  
“Who took the stars and put you and I together in your eyes - No!” Lance muttered under his breath. Lance buried his face into the brown paper of the package, trying to collect his thoughts.  
  
While Lance was trying to wrestle with himself, Keith had opened the door, the chain keeping at just a crack. The snap of the door straining against the chain made Lance jump. Lance peered up at him as Keith peered back.  
  
“Keith, my guy,” Lance wheezed. “You freakin scared me.”  
  
“Sorry,” Keith said, not actually sounding sorry. “I heard you from halfway across the apartment.”  
  
“Uhh, I was barely even whispering. How did you -?”  
  
“The walls are pretty thin, so everything kind of just - carries?” Keith quickly cut in.  He squinted at Lance. “You got here faster than last time.”  
  
“So you do remember me,” Lance added in, teasingly. “I’m truly flattered, babe. I knew I made a good impression on you.”  
  
“It’s kind of hard to forget the guy who insulted my hair,” Keith replied dryly. “I wouldn’t say that it was a good impression.”  
  
“Oh come on!” Lance whined. “I think we set up a good starting point to better bonding moments.”  
  
Keith fixed him with a look, one Lance was quickly starting to think (and hope) would be a signature look only reserved for Lance. Keith unhooked the chain, already reaching out with the money.  
  
“Can I just have my food?” Keith said. “I’m kind of starving.”  
  
“Why is all meat though? Like if it wasn’t for the ham choy you wouldn’t have any vegetables in this,” Lance piped up, handing Keith the package.  
  
Keith shrugged, taking the food into his hands. He lingered for a split second as he regarded Lance, eyeing him like Lance was worlds away instead of right in front of him.  
  
“Just what I was craving is all,” Keith said. “...Drive safe.”  
  
Then he shut the door in Lance’s face again, the hallway falling back into quiet. Lance exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when Keith had looked at him so intensely.  
  
“Yeah,” Lance said, voice hushed, hoping that Keith was telling the truth about those thin walls. He hoped his voice carried. “Don’t be a stranger, mullet-man.”  
  
Lance headed back down towards his car.

  
-

  
Keith had come to be a regular shortly after that. He called nearly the same time every couple of weeks, with nearly the same meat filled options. Lance had eventually stopped trying to understand why, too preoccupied with the fact that he could keep seeing Keith. Their interactions had remained rather awkward the few times after their second meeting. Despite Lance having learned and addressing Keith by name, Keith hadn’t actually learned, much less remembered Lance’s name until much later, to Lance’s exasperation.  
  
Lance still tried to drop a pick-up line, which Keith was clearly not picking up on.  
  
The whole “I’m the one you need” thing hadn’t gone well over with Keith when Keith had just looked at him and asked, “Need for what?”  
  
Lance could only wave his hand, defeated but not out, saying, “Nevermind. We’ll try again next time.”  
  
Then Keith had offered him a smile, a real honest smile, small and tinged with the barest peek of the tips of his kind-of pointed teeth. His entire expression had gone so soft for that moment that Lance almost forgot how to breathe. Keith was really good-looking when he wasn’t all sharp angles and barely concealed defensiveness. (Lance found that he liked Keith with any expression now that he was seeing so many. Soft-Keith, edgy-Keith, awkward-Keith, Lance drank it all in.)  
  
“I’m looking forward to it, then,” Keith said.  
  
Lance felt himself smiling, big and goofy, too much teeth but without a care. He saluted Keith with a wink as he made to walk off.  
  
Over his shoulder he said, “Hasta la Later, Keith!”  
  
His insides squirmed, mind focused only on one thing: Keith was looking forward to seeing Lance again.

  
-

  
  
Lance leaned against Keith’s doorway, sticking his face in through the crack of the door, ducking his head under the chain with a slow stretching grin. He crossed his legs as he leaned on his forearm, using the inch of height he had on Keith to flutter his eyelashes down at the other boy.  
  
“We gotta stop meeting like this, Babe,” Lance said. “I’m going to start thinking there’s more to these little deliveries.”  
  
“Why? Aren’t there other delivery guys over there or is it just you?” Keith said, cocking an eyebrow. “We only meet because you’re the closest place with the food I want.”  
  
“Well, yeah, there’s Joey and my friend, Hunk, but - “ Lance stopped. “That’s not the point!”  
  
“You keep saying that. What is the point?,” Keith pointed out, amused. Lance knew he was referring to the two previous times he’d tried to lay a sweet pick-up line on Keith only to have Keith completely misunderstand it. Just like now.  
  
Lance rolled his eyes. Keith unlocked the door, already shouldering out to swap money for the food package. Lance rolled his head too look lazily at Keith.  
  
“Bonding is the point, Keith! Bonding,” He said.  
  
“I could cradle you in my arms if that’s what you want,” Keith joked.  
  
Lance nearly bit his tongue. He wasn’t sure if he was hearing right. Had Keith been flirting with him, too? Or was it just a joke as it sounded? Lance could feel his skin growing hot, a sweat threatening to break out.  
  
“Would I still get my tip if I do?” Lance croaked, mentally berating himself when his voice cracked.  
  
“You can only pick one,” Keith said. “And you already got your tip, so.”  
  
Lance groaned, pocketing the money as Keith stepped back into his apartment.  
  
“Hey, I left something in there for you,” Lance added in before Keith  was shutting the door. “It’s got meat in it. I helped make it over at my family’s bakery. I figured you might, you know, like it considering what you always order.”  
  
Keith raised his eyebrows. “I thought you worked at the Jamaican place? Since you’re their delivery boy.”  
  
“Well yeah. I do the bakery thing for my parents in the days and the deliveries for my dad’s parents at night. But yeah, what I slipped in there for you, there’s a chicken one and a beef one. Totally up your alley. Cool huh?” Lance said, waggling his eyebrows.  
  
“Huh, I’ll, uh, definitely try it. Thanks...Lance,” Keith said.  
  
He offered Lance a soft, small smile before he finally shut the door.  
  
Lance waited a few moments, then hurried down to the ground floor. Once there, he bent down, tucking his elbows in towards his stomach, an excited whine workings it way out of his throat. Lance jumped, limbs flying out as he howled into the night air. He landed on his feet, then twirled on his heels.  
  
“He’s too cute, holy crow,” Lance said to himself, still grinning.

  
  
-

  
“You know, you’re really loud,” Keith said dryly. “I could hear you half way across the other side of the building.”  
  
Lance fumbled for a moment. “That’s just the sound of me waiting to see that lovely face again, Babe”  
  
Keith looked at him dumbfounded, opening his mouth to reply before closing it again. He pulled his eyebrows down as he frowned at Lance. “Then why didn’t you just knock first?” Keith asked, slowly as if he couldn’t understand the direction of their conversation.  
  
Lance blew air, handing him the package. “I can see you’re missing the point here. Don’t think you’ll get away next time!”  
  
“Miss what?” Keith said, looking up through his bangs.. The corners of his mouth were curved in a lopsided grin. Lance preened. “Your bad jokes?”  
  
Lance laid a hand on his chest in mock offense, jaw parting for effect. Keith’s shoulders shook slightly even as his face remained neutral. When Lance fluttered his eyelashes, expression frozen, Keith finally cracked, holding onto the door knob and laughing. Lance grinned, a pleasant feeling welling up inside of him. Keith’s eyes crinkled when he laughed, Lance noticed, and a tiny dimple appeared just at the corner of his left cheek. Keith shook his head when he looked back at Lance,  
  
“I’ll have you know that my jokes are the selling point of the delivery!” Lance exclaimed. He winked as he handed Keith his food. “You can’t say it isn’t the reason you’re totally always coming back for more.”  
  
Keith snorted, taking the brown package. Still, a faint smile appeared on his face.  
  
“You guys are actually just the closest. But,” Keith said. He paused though, a smirk rising to his face. “You’re not completely wrong though.”  
  
Keith tucked a rolled up wad of cash into Lance’s breast pocket. He stepped backwards into the apartment and rehooked the door chain. He looked up at Lance, bright eyes almost glowing in the cheap fluorescents of the hallway. His eyes crinkled again.  
  
“Drive safe, Lance,” Keith said. Then he closed the door.  
  
On the way home, Lance rolled the windows down, and blasted his radio on high. Crooning into the wind beating against his face, Lance sang, “ _Now we’re sharing the same dream, and our heart they beat as oooone. No more love on the ruuuuun_ -”. Someone he whizzed by whooped at him. Lance glanced into his rear view mirror, grinning at the moon following behind, almost full.

  
-

  
  
The moon was huge that night, bright and full. When Lance exited the shop with Keith’s order in hand, he couldn’t help but give a low whistle to himself at the way it sat so big in the sky. He could hear the clamor of the younger kids from upstairs talking to each other about how it looked like a giant tortilla.  
   
Lance snorted, walking backwards to yell up at them to start turning into bed before he told “mom and dad”. Nikki stuck her head out of the window then stuck her tongue out. Lance only just grinned back and told them to be good until he came back. In unison, they waved at him as he climbed into the McClain Delivery Rust-Bucket.  
   
By now, Lance had come to know the route to Keith’s apartment like the back of his hand. In the first few times he’d had to keep double checking signs and street numbers, which had sometimes proved difficult since the deeper he got into the apartment’s area, the signs were either lopsided and barely hanging on, or partially covered by trees. The entire area, now that Lance had time to properly look at it in his leisure, was a bit odd.  
Overgrown trees that hung wildly over the one-way roads. Lines of roots cracking through pavements. A line of old bottles two turns away from where Keith was lined along a good half mile of road, knocking together in the slight breeze and glinting off Lance’s car lights with its clear colored glass. Cat perched precariously on fences, seemingly as if floating were almost normal too. In some ways Lance wondered this the entire area kind of just existed in its own little universe than the rest of the city. He had shrugged anyway; you could travel for 30 minutes in the same city and magically it seemed as if you had wound up somewhere else. Why would this place be any different? If anything, it was kind of endearing, in its weird little way.  
   
Lance pulled up to his usual spot at Keith’s complex. A few lights were on in a few places. Lance wondered if there was just not a lot of people that lived there. He shrugged either way and gathered the food up in his arms. The sooner he got up to the third floor, the sooner he could see Keith’s pretty face and lay a smooth pickup line on him.  
   
Before Lance could even knock on the door, it was already creaking open, no door chain to hinder it as usual. Lance found that odd, but swung with it. He leaned against the doorframe, levered only by a hand, his ankles crossed as he rested the food package against his hip. Putting on his most charming smile, Lance fluttered his eyelashes at the other man.  
   
“Finally ready to let me into your heart, Babe?” Lance cooed. He started, “I knew you couldn't resist -”  
   
Keith placed his hand over Lance’s. Lance looked quickly at the other man’s hand then back at Keith, words lost. Keith leaned in close enough that under the crappy fluorescents, Lance could determine that Keith’s eyes were a smouldering steel blue. If he hadn't blinked it might have even seemed to glow. Lance’s mouth felt dry, unable to form legible sentences as proper responses mashed and jumbled on his tongue. Keith had never actually flirted back; Lance didn't actually have a backup plan for if he ever did.  
   
“You've got me there,” Keith replied. His smile became toothy, sharp. “I really _couldn’t_ resist.”  
   
A high pitched laugh worked its way out of his throat, painfully embarrassing even to Lance’s ears. The slight flush that had been settling on his cheeks before had ignited into a blaze as he watched a slow smirk work its way over Keith’s face. His other hand rested on Lance’s jacket, fingers digging in gently into the fabric.  
   
“Uhm,” Lance interjected. “UH.”  
   
“You smell good, you know. Like cinnamon and cookies,” Keith continued. His tongue tip stroked along a strangely sharp looking tooth. “I like that.”  
   
Laying his hand flat to Lance’s chest, Keith began to walk forward. With a gentle nudge, Lance found himself backtracking for each of Keith’s steps, eyes unable to leave Keith’s. The food package was warm against Lance’s hip. Were Keith’s eyes beginning to bleed gold? Lance couldn’t be sure. It was like all of his senses were honed in on to the feel of Keith’s palm even through the layers of clothes separating him from knowing how warm Keith could be. It wasn’t until the backs of Lance’s shoes hit the opposite wall facing Keith’s apartment door that Lance had seemed to snap out of his tunnel vision.  
   
“Uh, Keith, dude, not that i’m not, you know, thrilled by where this is going,” Lance cut in nervously. He licked his lip twice. When Keith leaned closer, Lance found himself flattening against the wall. “But, uh, what is happening??”  
   
Keith took hold of the food package and threw it aside behind him.  
   
He planted a knee between Lance’s legs, mouth parting as his eyes glowered in the hallway, rippling gold. Lance wondered if this was what rabbits felt like before a giant part of jaws snatched them up.  
   
“You’re not getting that tip,” Keith said firmly. He took hold of the side of Lance’s neck and tugged him down. “You’re getting that cradling.”  
   
Then Keith sniffed him, _sniffed him!_ The tips of his teeth raked across the bare skin of his neck and Lance was melting. Lance’s hands flew to Keith’s shoulders, moving wildly for purchase as Keith’s teeth nipped at Lance’s skin. It was almost a tickle the way they danced along his neck, filled him with an ache for Keith to be closer still. One hand found its way at the back of Keith’s hand, buried in the thick hair at the base of his skull. The other arm was flung tightly across his shoulder, dragging him in as Lance whined for more, more, more.  
   
Keith was surprisingly more solid than he had realized, like a wall of building muscle hiding under a slimming black t-shirt.  
   
With what bare amount of brain cells he still had functioning, Lance cracked his eye open, settling on a brown lump over Keith’s shoulder. He gasped as Keith’s incisor pushed at his neck, threatening to break skin in the sweetest way but only serving to drive Lance mad.  
   
“Wh-What about your food? You paid for it, don’t you want it -” Lance mumbled.  
   
Keith pressed his nose into the curve of Lance’s neck, a content noise sounding at the back of his throat as he nuzzled him. He kissed Lance’s jaw.  
   
“Something else looks better right now,” was Keith’s low reply.  
   
With that, Lance stopped thinking and let himself melt into Keith, baring his neck. Keith rumbled something pleased and moved to swallow the high-pitched whine threatening to spill from Lance’s lips.  
   
“Hey, Keith, is the food here yet, I’m starved -- Keith? Keith!” Someone called.  
   
Lance didn’t care, blindly kissing across Keith’s face as Keith whispered praises under his breath, petting Lance’s hip. The voice got closer, an annoying thump. Keith almost seemed to growl, burrowing further against Lance.  
   
“Keith, Keith -” Lance whined.  
   
Then, the warmth against him was gone. Through hazy eyes, Lance watched as Keith was bodily picked up off the ground and flung over a shoulder. Lance blinked, vision focusing as a large muscular man was fighting to stay steady as Keith kicked and fought to be put down. He hissed something back at Keith as they both stumbled backwards and nearly fell. Lance crept forward, picked up the food and stood in the hallway, at a loss. The man finally managed to throw Keith into the apartment, slamming the door close and holding the handle as he shot Lance an apologetic look. Lance opened his mouth then closed it again.  
   
The man patted at his pockets before he pulled out a wad of cash. Keith slammed himself against the door, yelling _“Shiro open the door”._ Shiro - Lance presumed - motioned with the cash, smiling sheepishly at him. Lance approached, swapping the food for the cash.  
   
“Uh, sorry about Keith. It’s, uh, a delicate time right now for both of us,” Shiro explained lamely. “Gimme a sec and i’ll give you your tip.”  
   
Lance waved a hand, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. Shiro had seen them making out in the hallway without a care in the world. He scratched one burning cheek as he cleared his throat.  
   
“Uh, no tip necessary, really. I’ll just get going. Tell Keith I’ll see him next time?” Lance said.  
   
The door bounced again, making Shiro grimace. He nodded and bodily forced himself into the apartment, using the bulk of his body to keep Keith from slipping out. From over Shiro’s shoulder, Keith was able to peek at him, eyes blazing gold. He mouthed Lance’s name then the door was closing.  
   
Lance exhaled loudly. He flicked the money in his hands then descended the stairs.  
   
Outside, the moon sat high and proud, wide and full with not a cloud in sight.

  
   
-

  
   
To say Keith had been antsy was an understatement. About an hour after Lance had left and with his face properly stuffed, Keith had been able to think clearly.  
   
He had done nothing _but_ think. Think of the way Lance had smelled, the way his hands had felt on him, in his hair, across his body. The breathy little whines he gave when he was bitten in just the right spot. Most importantly, the way he had been so willing in Keith’s arms.  
   
He kept those thoughts close to him as he transformed, bones snapping as he succumbed to the effects of the full moon. He tore at his clothes, long claws shredding fabric and skin, as fur bursted through and covered him. It always hurt, every single time, but it had become a bearable, normal pain, to say the least after 21 years of transformations. He dug new scratches into his floors, toppled his bed, which had no frame for this reason. In the next room he could hear Shiro knock the vase of fake flowers over, his fourth one in the last few months.  
   
Shiro had been away for the last two of his transformations for trips to witches for maintenance on his prosthetic arm. Magic required magic. No one was none the wiser to know that the blackwork tattoo, the interlocking black hexagons, on Shiro’s arm was actually a fake arm thrumming with magic.  
   
Keith had been a little lonely, but he’d gone through transformations alone before. He always knew what to expect.  
   
What he _didn’t_ expect was Lance McClain.  
   
Lance who was supposed to be some nameless delivery boy providing his Full Moon Cravings. Now he was more than that - a friend? No, after tonight, Keith would have to admit to what he’d been trying to ignore.  
   
He was attracted to Lance, plain and simple. It had morphed without his knowing into a full blown crush, had intrigued his Wolf Side into bypassing all filters Keith would normally have and press him deliciously up against that wall, and tasted him.  
   
Lance had responded so sweetly, so perfectly. Had Lance shown even a hint of dislike, repulsion, Keith would have ripped himself away instantly, wolf or not.  
   
But Lance had said he would _see him later_ . He would come back. He would see _Keith_ again.  
   
There was a potential for more.  
   
More touching, more kissing, more Lance - more, more, more.  
   
Keith wanted all of it. He wanted to to sit with him, eat with him, watch tv together. Talk about stupid things, argue about stupid things. Kiss and makeup, make-out, hold hands. The whole nine yards.  
   
Keith rose up on his feet, shaking himself loose. He was twice his size, hulking and powerful. It took a moment to steady his senses, the way they were now sharper, it was overwhelming. The food bag still had the faintest whiff of Lance on it. Next door he could hear Shiro padding out of his room. Keith followed suit.  
   
Opening a window, the two of them leapt out, spooking a witch-neighbor from the second floor, and dashed out into the darkness.

  
   
-

  
Lance couldn’t sleep without dreaming of gold eyes and the ghost of kisses embedded into his neck.  At night he would curl up into a little burrito, blankets wrapped tightly around him, easily adrift into unconsciousness. He didn’t always dream but when he did, it was like the lines between reality and dream blended.  
   
Granny had said there was power in dreams. She had grown up in a place where what a dream showed you said a lot of what could happen, would happen. Lance didn’t think that much on it. But after the last few weeks, there was an inkling that maybe she had been.  
   
Seeing was still believing, though.  
   
Falling asleep was never something Lance had trouble with. No, it was the dreams that Lance couldn’t control. His subconscious always had a lot to say.  
   
In the next few days after The Incident, Lance had dreamt of a black wolf every single night, stalking at his periphery. He didn’t know what it wanted, but it never gave him cause for alarm. It watched him with bright golden eyes, familiar and warm. It would happen quicker than Lance could realize, but then the dream would morph. He would approach the wolf, kneel before it, and reach out to touch it.  
   
When he buried his fingers into its fur, it was like the world was tilting. Dream-Lance would close his eyes and then it was _Keith_ would be there. Keith, whose hair Lance was gripping. Keith who was whispering things into Lance’s collarbones in a language Lance didn’t understand but somehow felt was otherworldly yet fitting. Lance would melt like he did that night. The two of them sinking to their knees, wrapped around each other.  
   
Lance would nose at Keith’s cheek, begging for a kiss. Then Keith would look at him, the silver-blue of his eyes bleeding gold, lips parting as they kissed -- and Lance woke up.  
   
Then Lance would find himself, halfway off his bed, blanket strewn away. Lance would groan, slowly picking himself up off the ground and dumping everything - himself included- back in his bed. He’d stare at the ceiling and try and recall the scent of Keith’s clothes and the feel of his hands.  
   
It continued like that for a few days. Lance became hyper aware of the telephone, wondering if Keith would call or make Lance wait until his usual time of the month. He was almost useless, pacing, and eyeing the phone, and diving it for it every time it rung. His grandmother would fix him with a look.  
   
“What foolishness are you up to,?” She asked, her accent clear and strong.  
   
“Nothing, Granny!” Lance defended. “Can’t a guy be excited for how well we do as a business?”  
   
Granny looked unimpressed. She passed him a broom and pointed to the tables. Lance groaned dramatically, bending backwards as he pushed the broom in front of him, whining “graaaaanny”. She answered him a _“ ‘top ih nonsense. Chuh!_ ” behind him.  
   
Lance sniffed, bumping against the legs of chairs and tables as he cleared away lint and old wrappers. He and granny worked quietly, with gramps occasionally popping in from the kitchen to loudly greet a Usual only to disappear again. Near three, he swiped a flaky patty from its container, uncaring of the crumbs he was leaving on himself.  
   
“Granny, I’m going to go wait by the bus stop for Nikki and Ava,” Lance called.  
   
She waved him off, rearranging the buns and coco breads. Lance’s nieces and nephews actually lived a little outside their schoolzone. So it had been decided early on that they would be dropped off at the restaurant instead. Lance had taken it upon himself to personally come and wait for them. Ten minutes later, the bus rolled up, and Nikki bounded out. Slower came Ava, nearly missing the last step as she cautiously waded out.  
   
Lance furrrowed his brow, kneeling to gently hold her by the sides. He drews her into the curve of his arm, watching her eyes drooping as if she was fighting sleep. Her cheeks were flushed.  
   
“Hey Avvey, you okay?” Lance asked.  
   
“She said she wasn’t feeling well on the bus,” Nikki told him. “She said she was cold.”  
   
Lance grimaced, gathering her up in his arms, and taking Nikki by the hand. Luckily the restaurant was just around the corner. When he got back, he handed Nikki off to granny. Ava had lulled, head nestled against his shoulder as she began to doze. Granny reached up, both hands cradling the child’s neck as she frowned. She shook her head and sent them both up the stairs to their grandparents’ apartment.  
   
Lance chanced a glance at the phone one last time. He bit his lip. Keith hadn’t called in a few days. So if he didn’t pay attention for at least one day, it wasn’t like he was going to miss him.  
   
Right?

  
-

  
It was a few days later that Keith had finally gotten the nerve to call McClains. The day afte a Full Moon was meant for recovery. His body was always sore, too worn from the way it had had to break itself and reassemble in the cover of a few hours. The days following that, Keith had simply become pre-occupied again. Cleaning the messes he and Shiro had made mid-transformation, homework he had inevitably destroyed, and his part-time job at the little bookstore a few blocks away for second-hand supernatural books. He hadn’t forgotten Lance. But it was driving him crazy that he wasn’t able to see him, either. Decipher what That Night meant.  
   
So here he was. Keith was pacing, phone in hand. He was wearing a groove into the floor and he couldn’t say he cared.  
   
All he had to do was dial the number for McClain’s. Nothing new. Nothing new at all. Call, order the usual, wait for Lance to come up the stairs to the door. Easy-peasy.  
   
Keith looked at the phone, the old ass thing that still had a curly cord still attached to it, and the clear buttons in the middle. Keith had long since memorized the phone number. His thumb danced over the area code.  
   
Growling, he hung up the phone and flopped on the couch.  
   
Keith was a werewolf, who had, apparently, descended from a long line of werewolves. (If what his dad had to say was anything to go by. His mom was a were...wherever she was. Lance would be proud of that joke).  
   
He was one of the most feared creatures in the neighborhood, even the witches weren’t keen on messing with him. Why was calling to order food and potentially see Lance’s stupid cute face suddenly scary? Keith could snap whole metal rods in half with his bare claws!  
   
Stupid, adorable Lance. Making Keith’s life hard.  
   
Keith looked back at the phone. He sat up on the arm of the couch, and dialed the number.  
   
The voice of Granny McClain came on, kind and knowing.  
   
_“Keith. You’re early, boy. Full moon’s not soon.”_  
   
Keith had to pause. He really didn’t have a reply to that. Stupid perceptive old lady. Keith knew better than to say that, though.  
   
“Uh yeah. Didn’t feel like cooking this time around, Aunty,” Keith replied instead. “Can I have the usual though?”  
   
_“ ‘Course. Anything else? A drink?”_  
   
“Uh. Could you - send your cutest delivery boy?” Keith hurriedly replied before he could chicken out.  
   
Granny paused, but somehow Keith could feel a smugness across the line. She huffed a laugh. _“Twenty-five fifty. It’ll be there half-past 9,”_ Granny said and hung up.  
   
When the dial-tone sounded, Keith couldn’t help the noise of victory he eked out. He slammed the phone down and fell back into the cushions, arms spread wide. He looked up at the ceiling and smile wide enough that his cheeks were hurting.

  
   
-

  
   
Keith squinted. He looked at the guy in front of him; his yellow bandana, sheepish expression, and terrifyingly huge arms with his food bag snugly fit under one such arm.  
   
This wasn't Lance.  
   
“You're not Lance,” Keith said.  
   
The guy cracked a wider smile, something teasing and smug settling on his face.  He was vaguely intimidating in a way, though the entirety of his being radiated a warmth Keith could not shake off. He stared at the guy and the guy stared back. Keith didn’t know how long neither of them said anything. The guy stuck a hand out.  
   
“I'm Hunk, actually -- and apparently the cutest delivery boy,”Hunk replied jokingly.  
   
Keith awkwardly shook his hand. His hand was engulfed in Hunk’s own. He wore fingerless gloves, Keith realized. Anyone who wore fingerless gloves like he did had to be trustworthy.  
   
“I thought you would be Lance,” Keith muttered to himself. He shifts to try and look over Hunk’s shoulder, wondering if maybe Lance is hiding behind Hunk.    
   
A sound like an aborted snort. Hunk’s eyes flickered to him as he pressed his fist to his mouth. He cleared his throat as he leveled a gaze at Keith. His thick brows pulled down over his eyes as he jutted his lower lip out.  
   
“So you don’t think I’m cute?” Hunk conspiratorially whispered.  
   
Keith’s eyes flew open, jaw working. “Wait, no I -”  
   
“Am I not cute or something, dude? Come on!” Hunk cried. He flexed a thick arm, impressing Keith, who now had his hands up trying to placate the other man. “You see this, Keith?”  
   
“Uhm your arm?” Keith asked.  
   
“No, my shirt. Guess what it's made out of?” Hunk replied.  
   
“Cot-ton?”  
   
“Cutie-pie material!” Hunk cried.  
   
A few ticks went by before Hunk was throwing his head back in a big laugh, and Keith’s own were spilling out of him a few seconds later. He doubled over, hands braced on his knees as his whole body shook. A tear had even come to his eye. He heard Hunk stumbling forward, bracing on the wall by the apartment door as he wheezed. When they both could breathe, they shared a grin. Keith felt at ease, wondering this was Hunk’s special power.  
   
“Soooo, I’m guessing you were expecting Lance. Which makes you Keith. But like _Keith-_ Keith,” Hunk said.  
   
Keith furrowed his brows. “Yeah, I’m Keith.”  
   
“Oh boy, I’m kinda glad I finally got to meet you. Though not under these circumstances you know?” Keith didn’t really know but he nodded just the same. “Lance goes on and on and on about you. I kinda thought you were like made up.”  
   
“How so?” Keith said.  
   
“Well, I mean, for starters, you eat almost nothing but meat on or near a full moon. You also live in this kind of off-kilter creepy area. I swear I saw a bunch of black cats on a fence in a row when I got here. My Nana warned me about witches, and so does Lance’s granny, and frankly I think I saw some parchment nailed to a tree outside,” Hunk continued. He probably had seen parchment nailed to a tree. Keith wondered who the latest hex victim was this time. “And - woah, dude - Lance wasn’t kidding, you’re teeth _are_ sharp!”  
   
“Like, noah fence, dude, but you sound like you’re a werewolf,” Hunk said.  
   
Keith blinked. Then blinked again.  
   
“I am, though.”  
   
“Ha! Lance didn’t say you were so funny. Good one, Keith,” Hunk said with a chuckle. He passed the food over into Keith’s hands.  
   
Keith accepted it, trading it for the money in the breast pocket of his flannel shirt. “I am, though. My mom was a werewolf. Myr roommate is, too.” He pulled at his upper lip to reveal an incisor, letting it naturally elongate as an example.  
   
“Ooohhhh my god, ohmygod, ohmygod, it’s true! Funny Full Moon Customer Keith is actually Werewolf Keith. Aw man, Werewolf-Keith you are cool,” Hunk squealed.  
   
Keith smiled. “You’re cool, too, Hunk.”  
   
Hunk squirmed in something reminiscent of a happy dance. He slapped Keith on the back before he was turning to leave. Hunk flashed Keith a thumbs up.  
   
“I gotta go, Werewolf-Keith. But if you try ordering again tomorrow and ask for “the cutest delivery boy”, I can guarantee it’ll be Lance next time. One of his nieces is sick, so he volunteered to babysit while his sister runs a late shift,” Hunk told him. He waved as he headed down the stairs. “Bye, dude, don’t be a stranger!”  
   
Keith waved back, smiling to himself. When he finally closed the door and set the food down on the little dining table, Shiro gave him a reproachful look.  
   
“Can you please stop telling people we’re werewolves,” Shiro said, exasperated.  
   
Keith shoved a chicken leg into Shiro’s mouth as he took the carton of pork back to his room.

   
-

   
“So,” Lance started, his thin eyebrow cocking. His mouth upturned into a smirk, one Keith had sorely missed. “Cutest, huh?”  
   
Keith could barely bite back a smile. “I don’t see Hunk anywhere around.”  
   
Lance dramatically sagged, slumping down so that his long arms swayed beneath him, shooting Keith a betrayed look. He swung himself forcefully until he could propel his arms, one by one, like useless vines, up on top of Keith’s shoulders. Keith grunted, planting his feet to gladly accept Lance’s weight.  
   
“Keith, whyyy,” Lance whined. He dropped his body against Keith’s, threatening to pull them both down as he let his knees buckle, forcing Keith to keep them both up. “I thought we booonded.”  
   
Keith huffed, bending until he could gather up Lance in his arms and hold him in a princess carry. Lance yelped, blearily looking over Keith’s shoulder and then to his face to gape at him. Pressing his fingers to his lower lip, Lance dropped his voice into a low whisper.  
   
“You have no idea how hot that was right now,” Lance mumbled. “Are you the ocean? Because you swept me away just now, and I wouldn’t mind being lost in your sea.”  
   
Keith laughed, walking into his apartment, absently kicking the door shut with his foot. Lance squirmed in his arms, pressing his nose insistently to the side of Keith’s neck, as they staggered about. From his room Shiro peeked out before shaking his head and shutting the door again. When they reached into Keith’s room, Lance reached back and pressed the door gently shut. Keith bent to lay Lance down on his bed.  
   
“Ok, ok, how about this one. I was mer- _made_ to be yours. Huuuh, huuuh? Good right?” Lance teased.  
   
Keith hummed his agreement, watching the happy flush it put on Lance’s face. He looked bright, a million stars in one, and sitting so comfortably on Keith’s bed. Keith gingerly touched Lance’s shoulder, pushed him to lie flat against the bed as he stalked over him. His grin glinted in the low-light, sent butterflies into Lance’s stomach.  
   
“Are you the full moon? Because you're driving me wild,” Keith murmured.  
   
Lance beamed, hands tangling into Keith’s hair as he fluttered his eyelashes. Keith nipped the tip of his nose. He could hear the steady beat of Lance’s heart matching his own.  
   
“I might almost believe Hunk when he says you’re a werewolf if you’re going to use that on me,” Lance joked. “You a werewolf, Keith?”  
   
“Would you believe me if I said yes?” Keith asked, pressing kisses up the hollow of Lance’s throat, and underneath the curve of his jaw.  
   
“Not sure I would take your word for it. I think I’d have to see the proof,” Lance said, arching into Keith’s kisses.  
   
He pulled Keith up towards him, their lips hovering a breadth apart. He could feel the vicious smile hiding under the cover of Keith’s bangs, predatory and pulse-racing, and delicious like that night before. Lance tingled.  Something like a pleased growl vibrated through Keith and along Lance where they were pressed together. Licking an incisor, Keith tilted his head up to reveal the burning gold of his eyes.  
   
“I guess I’ll just have to prove it, won’t I?” Keith said.  
   
He pressed his forehead against Lance’s, their noses touching. “I like you so much.”  
   
Lance giggled, arms lazily looped around Keith’s neck. He kissed his cheek, sweet and sincere. “I like you so much, too. Now please kiss me.” 

Keith didn’t need to be told twice.

**Author's Note:**

> So in this fic universe, Lance is Jamaican-Cuban mixed :') because I'm self-indulgent. His father is Jamaican hence McClain and his mother is Cuban. His paternal grandparents are the ones who own the restaurant Keith orders from. The Bakery on the other hand is what Lance's parents own. 
> 
> They're not very far from the Garrett Family Mechanics shop ;D. Hunk doubles as a delivery boy, too. 
> 
> might make a sequel...since during the third quintant of the spicolian movement aka hump day, werewolves go lookin' for mates. wink wink
> 
> werewolf facts for this fic universe. you can't turn anyone, you're born one or not. the closer it gets to a full moon, the more likely cravings will be hard to ignore. it leaves them restless, hungry, maybe a little more worked up on stuff depending, and sometimes it'll be a little harder to filter themselves (see Keith making out with Lance). They're not regular looking wolves, they're pretty huge. Think Van Helsing werewolves (i love the van helsing movie with hugh jackman lolol). uh twice or so a year...is...mating season. :3c js.
> 
> i need to flesh this out more lol


End file.
